


Cracks in the Dirt

by Verabird



Category: Les Misérables (Movie 1952), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verabird/pseuds/Verabird
Summary: Genflou touched him again that night. This time with gentle fingertips and wet cloths.





	Cracks in the Dirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwelveLeagues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwelveLeagues/gifts).



This night was not the first hot and sweaty night that Valjean had spent in Genflou’s arms, their limbs wrapped around each other, warm skin sticking and pressing, his hair wet to his forehead and sweat running down his neck and chest. The balmy summer evenings caused the cramped cells to bake like ovens and the nightfall made little difference to the temperature. The sun had heated the metal of the bagne all the way down into the depths and the moon could not cool her. Even in thick summer rainfall the sheet of heavy heat struggled to clear, and so Valjean and Genflou could do nothing else except embrace it wholeheartedly. Genflou divested them both of their clothes before Valjean could make any small complaint, and he was firm and forceful as he thrust their bodies together, stroking Valjean’s hair and face and arms and lower back and any other part of bare skin he could place his hands on. Through the small barred window of the cell they shared Valjean could see the vague twinkles of stars, shining through the misty blanket that coated the night, and he focused on the brightest one as Genflou caressed him with expert fingers.

Genflou’s hand was held in an exquisite grip round Valjean’s dick, his other spread across the base of his back and held the two close together. His lips brushed Valjean’s neck and then his cheek and finally his own lips and Valjean let out a beautiful sigh.

“Just a little further,” Genflou murmured into Valjean’s ear, his breath warm, and Valjean’s breathing came in shallow whimpers and Genflou squeezed a little tighter for a brief moment and then let go all together. Valjean let out a moan at the abandonment and tilted his hips forward into Genflou’s gentle hand. Genflou smiled as he saw how willing and pliable Valjean was beneath his touch and kissed his lips again. “Fall for me,” He whispered into Valjean’s lips. “Fall into me.”

Genflou’s palm found Valjean’s aching dick again and squeezed before pulling into an easy rhythm, one that would tip Valjean into an ecstatic release. Valjean moaned at the touch and he gasped out even louder as he came, spilling over Genflou’s hand and the filthy floor. Valjean clutched Genflou tightly to him and breathed heavily as he came down from his paradisaic climax. Genflou kissed his forehead.

“Easy now,” He said gently. He lowered Valjean down onto the hard mats that were their only sleeping comfort. They had long ago drawn their makeshift beds close together to share warmth in the winter and sweet touches in the summer. There were a few heaps of straw to keep out the damp and Genflou had wrapped a pile in one of their blankets to use as a pillow. He lay Valjean down upon it and kissed his forehead again. He paused for a moment then touched Valjean’s forehead with the back of his hand.

“You’re too hot.”

Valjean’s lips twitched into a smile and he blinked up at Genflou. He brushed his own palm against his forehead then reached for Genflou’s hand and began kissing the tips of his fingers. “We should not have been exercising in this heat,” He replied softly.

Genflou frowned and shook his head as he reluctantly pried his hand from Valjean’s light grip and rested it back on his forehead. “You have a fever my love, why didn’t you say?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Genflou glanced over at their shared bucket of water and went to check the contents. There was about an inch or so left in the bottom. Genflou helped Valjean drink a little, and then he soaked a corner of the blanket in the rest and dabbed it at Valjean’s burning forehead and cheeks.

“Can you hold on until the morning?” Genflou quickly took Valjean’s hand that had reached out towards him. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“No guard would come at this hour, no matter how loud you called.”

Genflou nodded but he didn’t look happy about it. Valjean was burning beneath his touch and his cheeks were flushed and dusted with a sheen of sweat. Now that he looked closer he could see that Valjean was quivering, and it was not fallout from their hazy pleasure. He sighed.

“You hold on for me now, I won’t have them steal you from me.”

Valjean smiled and pulled weakly at Genflou’s hand so that he could kiss it again. He mumbled something into Genflou’s fingertips but Genflou didn’t hear it.

* * *

 

“He is well enough to work.”

“He is not!” Genflou was propping Valjean up with an arm round his shoulders and Valjean was still barely standing at that. He looked a little delirious, but Genflou was glad to see that the fever had not worsened. It had broken in the early hours of the morning and he’d held Valjean’s hand as he cried out and tossed and turned, and then when Valjean had finally rested he had demanded a guard send them more water. The water had been brought, and Genflou had handed over his morning bread ration, but this was as far as the guard’s kindness reached. If it had not been Javert on duty that morning Genflou suspected that Valjean might have been granted an hour or so of rest.

“He cannot row,” Genflou continued to protest. “He will collapse.”

“So be it.”

Genflou wanted to lash out and punch and kick this man to the floor until he bled across the boards, but he had already been chained in his place. “Where is your humanity?” He spat on the ground at Javert’s feet. The young guard looked taken aback for a moment as he regarded Genflou’s furious glare and his curled fists, but then he allowed his face to relax into a sneer and he appeared confident once again.

“I reserve it for humans, now get to your work, one more word out of you and I’ll have you flogged.”

Genflou opened his mouth to retort, but Javert cut in again. “One single word and I’ll have him flogged too.” He gestured to Valjean. “And I’ll make sure I’m the one to do it.”

This shut Genflou up, and with a final glare to Javert and a gentle squeeze to Valjean’s shoulder, he took his place at the oar. He helped Valjean, resting his hands on the grips and letting him lean on him.

“Don’t do anything,” He said quietly. “I’ll pick up the slack.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I’m not allowing you to let me, I’m just doing it, don’t complain.” He smiled and began to imitate Javert’s harsh yet irritating voice. “Or I’ll have you flogged.”

Valjean laughed and smiled at Genflou who he felt was looking at him too sympathetically. “Do I look like I’m dying?”

“What? No! No, of course not, but you don’t look well.” The rowing had begun, and on no sleep and no food Genflou was straining for two men. “Your fever broke in the night, the worst is over.”

Valjean stopped talking after a while, mostly because his throat hurt with thirst, but also because he could see Genflou quietly straining and the difficulty it was taking him to keep up with a conversation. When the guards changed shifts at noon, the man on duty for their section came over to inspect them. He was older than Javert, not his superior but far more experienced, and he took one look at Valjean before ordering him to rest properly. The word spread quickly and it wasn’t long before Javert had arrived on the scene to protest the decision, but his pomposity was waved down.

“One day missed so that a convict may recover their strength is better than a week’s poor work thanks to no recovery.”

Javert had opened and closed his mouth like a fish for several moments. Genflou stared at him fiercely, trying to understand how the man thought, but he could see no reason to be so cruel. The man had not a single caring nor loving bone in his body and Genflou would gladly see him rot before pissing on his grave.

“It appears you have a saviour,” Javert said disgustedly, before adding to Genflou. “You better make sure you don’t fall behind after losing a man, we won’t take kindly to laziness.”

* * *

 

Genflou touched him again that night. This time with gentle fingertips and wet cloths. Soothed his burning forehead and his aching muscles, rubbed his back softly when he coughed, hacking up his lungs.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Valjean asked hoarsely as Genflou frowned at him.

“It’s nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

Genflou sighed. “I’m worried about you Jean. You need to get better from this.”

Genflou touched Valjean’s cheek, felt the heat rise from his skin, then brushed his fingers down to touch his lips. He sighed again, then leaned in to kiss him. Valjean’s eyes fluttered closed and he let Genflou take control of the kiss, dipping into his aching body and brushing against him with a desperate softness. His mind hurt, the weight of his sins rested heavy on his soul as Genflou’s body pressed against him, yet weak as he was he couldn’t protest. It was easier to blame it on the weakness of his physical body, than contemplate the thought that his soul was tarnished by deep carnal lust, a desire, a love, and pure as Genflou’s touches felt, Valjean knew that his spirit was broken and the cracks filled with dirt.

 


End file.
